Gu Fang had already noticed something was off with Jing Xuan.
If during the day Jing Xuan’s flushed face could still be chalked up to shame and frustration, then once night fell the subtle changes in his body were undeniable. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have left in such a hurry.
Gu Fang had intended to follow him.
Any other time, he would have.
But an urgent message from his men forced him to turn back.
Someone from Prince Rui’s camp had been spotted in Chang’an.
The former emperor had raised an army in rebellion, forcing the crown prince to his death and driving the reigning Son of Heaven to his grave. Though he ultimately took the throne with the people's support, remnants of the Crown Prince’s faction had never truly been eradicated.
Even after a brutal purge, some had survived.
Among them was Prince Rui, the Crown Prince’s full-blooded younger brother.
Unlike his brother, he had stayed out of court struggles. When the purge came, there was no solid proof of his involvement. Killing him without cause would have only thrown the already unstable court into further chaos.
So the former emperor had exiled him to the far southern frontiers.
By the laws of Great Yan, a prince could not leave his fief without an imperial summons. To enter Chang’an in secret was tantamount to treason.
And now, with the recent corruption scandal in Jiangnan, the sudden rise of Xie Buzi, and the new evidence Gu Fang had uncovered about the Qianzhong Province mining disaster.
He had no choice but to investigate immediately.
Every moment wasted was another risk to the capital.
Before leaving, he had stationed ten of his most elite guards outside Zichen Hall. They were battle-hardened soldiers. No assassin could possibly slip past them.
Yet just as he apprehended his suspects, the guards sent word.
Jing Xuan was missing.
Interrogating Fu Chang revealed the rough sequence of events.
Gu Fang had told him, time and again, how dangerous people could be. He had warned him not to go to Zhangtai Alley, not to get involved with someone like Liu Chou’er.
And yet, Jing Xuan had gone anyway.
He had spoiled him too much.
Shielded him from too many dangers.
Had let him grow up too unscathed, too naive.
If he had known this would happen, he would never have promised not to keep spies on him.
This little thing always running wild the moment he grew wings, always causing trouble the moment he got his claws—should have been bound to Gu Fang’s side with chains of black iron, never allowed to take a single step away.
Gu Fang had seen what Miao people’s venomous arts could do.
He didn’t know what Liu Chou’er had planned.
But as the last survivor of the Liu family, it was impossible that he bore any good intentions.
For the first time in years, Gu Fang panicked.
He rode straight to Zhangtai Alley at full speed.
The Silver Crane Guards had already arrived before him. Without anyone realizing, Nanfeng Pavilion had been locked down under their control.
Such a spectacle had never been seen in this district before.
Liu Chou’er didn’t run.
He allowed himself to be seized, tilting his head back in a smug smile as the dust-covered Gu Fang stormed in.
"I knew you’d come. I was waiting for you."
"But I’d advise you to tell your men to be gentle—if I die, the one inside won’t make it out unsca—"
His words were cut short.
A pair of ice-cold fingers had already wrapped around his throat, tight.
The once-composed prince regent had reverted to the cold, ruthless killer of the battlefield.
"I know you’ve suffered," Gu Fang said flatly.
"And I know you’re clever."
"But you made a mistake. You were too clever for your own good. You should never have laid a hand on someone you shouldn’t have touched."
"I’m not sparing you because I fear your threats."
"I’m sparing you because if I kill you now, that person will be heartbroken."
"So for your own sake, you better pray that he is completely unharmed because I am not as merciful as he is."
"Take him away. Interrogate him thoroughly."
Gu Fang flung Liu Chou’er aside and strode straight to the third floor.
He had been far too lenient lately.
That little thing had started ignoring his words, running amok without consequence.
Let’s see how he planned to punish him this time.
Gu Fang rarely let anger consume him.
But the moment he slammed open the door and saw what was inside.
Every ounce of fury surged to its peak.
—
The room was draped in crimson silk veils.
The night wind blew through the open windows, sending flickering candlelight rolling across the red gauze.
The bed was half-concealed in shadows, but the delicate silhouette upon it was unmistakable.
Layers of red silk dance robes lay crumpled on the floor.
His white silk stockings had been stripped off in a rough manner, leaving his pale ankles exposed—slender, fragile, almost translucent under the candlelight.
And right at the highest point of his ankle bone.
A single red mole, vivid as a drop of blood.
A mark that seemed to beg for lips to press against it.
To worship.
To bite.
The wide collar of his robes had slipped off his shoulders, revealing bare skin as white as fresh snow.
His butterfly-shaped shoulder blades were sharp and defined, curving toward a waist that could be crushed with just one hand.
His slender fingers clutched weakly at the sheets, as if trying to resist something.
Yet the pink flush at his knuckles only made one want to pry each delicate finger apart.
To lace their own between them.
To hold him down.
His peach blossom eyes, always full of seductive charm, were now dazed and unfocused, shimmering with moisture.
A faint pink flush stretched from his tear-streaked lashes, past his reddened cheeks, down to lips trembling under the press of his own teeth.
He looked like a demon, a wicked spirit sent to tempt men into ruin.
And yet, because of his natural innocence, his expression was nothing but confusion and helplessness.
But that very helplessness
Only made it worse.
Rather than diminishing the dangerous allure, it only fanned the flames.
Made one want to lock him away, Invade him, Break him apart.
Gu Fang Was Not a Man of Excessive Lust or Brutality.
Yet at that moment, an inexplicable surge of wicked fire rushed from the depths of his soul, consuming his body. It made him mad with the urge to use every rough and ruthless means at his disposal to deal with the little demon who had no sense of self-preservation.
Fortunately, he had arrived in time.
Otherwise, the flower he had carefully tended for so many years, one he had gone to great lengths to keep safe would have been tainted and trampled without mercy.
Just the mere thought of such a possibility sent a chill down his spine.
Without another word, he strode forward in quick, urgent steps, grasped Jing Xuan’s chin, and leaned in, intending to claim his lips.
But before he could, Jing Xuan called out softly.
"Little Uncle."
His voice was weak and hoarse, carrying an unknowing sense of reliance and trust.
Gu Fang froze.
All movement stopped.
And in that instant, all his fury dissipated like smoke in the wind.
He let out a helpless sigh, loosened his grip, removed his outer robe, and wrapped Jing Xuan tightly in it. Then, lifting him into his arms, he carried him out to the carriage.
However, while Gu Fang intended to let him go, Jing Xuan had no intention of letting him off so easily.
The moment they entered the carriage, Jing Xuan complained about the heat, shrugging off the heavy robe without hesitation. He turned and wrapped his arms around Gu Fang’s neck, clinging to him like a water snake. Even as he rubbed against him persistently, his furrowed brows and bitten lips showed that he was struggling to endure something unbearable.
Gu Fang was both angry and distressed.
He held Jing Xuan by the waist with one hand, while the other pinched his delicate face between his thumb and middle finger, forcing his lips apart. Then, he pressed his index finger inside.
His intention was simple. If Jing Xuan truly couldn’t endure it, he could bite his finger instead. It was better for him to suffer than to let the boy endure unbearable pain.
But Jing Xuan seemed to misunderstand.
Instead of biting, he gently licked his fingertip with the tip of his tongue.
A tingling sensation shot through Gu Fang’s entire body, like a surge of electricity.
He immediately tried to pull away, but Jing Xuan, his dazed eyes shimmering with moisture, murmured innocently.
"Sweet."
Of course, it was sweet.
After all, this prince spent the entire night peeling grapes and oranges for you, and in return, this is what you do to me?
Gu Fang wanted to be angry.
But where could he vent his frustration?
Jing Xuan’s hands had already begun to wander all over him, becoming increasingly reckless. His body, too, clung even tighter, until he was practically straddling Gu Fang’s lap, his slender waist sinking deeply against him.
His warm breath curled around Gu Fang’s ear.
Gu Fang could already feel how swollen Jing Xuan was.
And his own reaction was not much better.
This couldn’t go on.
What kind of venomous magic did this little demon fall under?
Forcing himself to stay calm, Gu Fang lowered his voice and called out toward the carriage window.
"Have you gotten anything out of him?"
Outside, his trusted aide answered urgently, "Yes! Liu Chou’er confessed. The drug is a type of aphrodisiac called Full Moon and Blossoms. There's no antidote except for..."
"Except for what?" Gu Fang’s voice was eerily controlled, hiding the turmoil within the carriage.
The aide hesitated, then finally forced out the words, "Only Your Highness can cure it. The two of you must... consummate... on the night of the full moon. Furthermore, you must remain within a hundred li of each other for the rest of your lives. Otherwise, the victim will suffer the agony of a thousand venomous insects devouring their heart, and if left untreated for too long, they will die a gruesome death."
The killing intent in Gu Fang’s eyes sharpened instantly.
He had heard of this venom before.
It was a secret art of the Liu clan, one that had ruined the lives of countless officials and noblemen. Some died, some were destroyed, and some betrayed everything for it. He had believed this art had been eradicated years ago.
But it seemed there was still a survivor.
"Is there truly no other cure?"
"None. And every full moon, the ritual must be completed before sunrise. If not, the venom will sink deeper into the bloodstream, and the pain will grow worse with time."
Gu Fang’s grip around Jing Xuan’s waist tightened until it seemed he might break him in half.
His voice turned icy. "Did you find out how the venom was administered?"
The aide hesitated again, then finally answered, "Your Highness... when Liu Chou’er was captured, he was first asked whether he had any drugs that could... render you incapable. Then, Prime Minister Zuo asked him if he had Full Moon and Blossoms. Liu Chou’er saw an opportunity and switched the drug, tricking His Highness into taking it instead..."
"....."
Gu Fang inhaled deeply.
Fine.
Very well.
So this was how it happened.
Then the consequences that followed...
No one could blame him for what he was about to do.
"I understand. You may leave."
The aide quietly withdrew.
Inside the carriage, the culprit behind all this remained tightly wrapped around him.
His already scarce silk robes had slipped loose, barely hanging on at his waist.
His delicate cherry-pink skin peeked through the fabric, shifting against Gu Fang’s jaw as he restlessly squirmed.
Still buried against Gu Fang’s neck, he whimpered in frustration.
"I’m so hot... and it hurts... I'm going to die if you don’t do something..."
And he still expected Gu Fang to find a solution?
For Now, Gu Fang Was a Gentleman But That Didn’t Mean He Was a Saint, Let Alone a Truly Good Person.
If someone insisted on seeking their own suffering, then he would make sure they learned their lesson well.
As soon as the carriage stopped at the gates of the Prince Manor, Gu Fang carried Jing Xuan inside, striding straight to his own bedroom. Without giving Jing Xuan a chance to react, he tossed him onto the bed. Then, before the boy could recover, he grabbed his waist, flipped him over, lifted his hips, and brought his palm down hard against that round, supple flesh.
"Ah!"
With a crisp smack, a stinging pain spread from the curve of Jing Xuan’s backside. The sudden sensation, though not severe, was enough to snap his mind out of its fevered haze.
He lay sprawled on the soft bedding, dazedly turning his head. His eyes blinked, slowly focusing. And when he finally caught sight of the embroidered dragon pattern on the hem of the robes behind him, he turned back again—this time meeting Gu Fang’s deep, sharp gaze.
It was like ice laced with smoldering magma.
Cold, yet barely suppressing a burning fury.
So it was Gu Fang who had hit him?
And he had even spanked him?
He was already suffering so much—so hot, so tormented, so miserable and instead of helping him, Gu Fang had the audacity to hit him?
He knew it! Gu Fang truly didn’t care for him at all!
Jing Xuan’s eyes turned red in an instant. "Gu Fang, you hurt me!"
But as soon as he spoke, he realized his voice was hoarse beyond recognition—so weak, so full of a trembling, almost tearful note. It didn’t sound like he was rebuking Gu Fang at all. Rather… it was as if…
Before he could grasp the thought, Gu Fang grabbed his chin from behind and crushed his lips in a searing kiss.
That kiss carried the weight of punishment—yet at the same time, it felt like he couldn’t bear to truly punish him.
The impact was rough, but the moment his lips touched that pair of soft, untouched petals, his movements turned cautious.
He held Jing Xuan’s jaw in place, gently sucking and nibbling, his cool tongue slipping inside only to be instantly tangled up in the scorching heat of the other’s mouth.
The fleeting gentleness was quickly devoured by the suffocating tide of desire, leaving behind only ravenous hunger.
Rough.
Brutal.
Greedy.
Possessive.
At first, Jing Xuan wanted to resist.
But the moment their lips meshed, heat exchanged, and that aching fever inside him found an outlet, his body surrendered to the overwhelming relief.
That unbearable, unceasing burn finally had a place to be soothed.
Without thinking, he clumsily responded, following instinct—chasing, matching, and yielding to the rhythm of Gu Fang’s dominance.
But gradually, the kiss became more and more overwhelming.
Too intense.
Too suffocating.
He wanted more, but he couldn’t breathe.
And worse, the heat and longing that had just been appeased returned with twice the intensity, surging through his body in a wave of desperation.
It wasn’t enough.
He needed something else.
But he didn’t know what it was.
All he could do was grasp tightly onto the only lifeline in front of him.
But just as he reached for salvation,
That lifeline abruptly slipped away.
Jing Xuan’s eyes fluttered open in confusion.
Gu Fang was staring down at him, fingers still gripping his chin, his dark gaze heavy as he spoke in a husky voice.
"Jing Xuan, look carefully. Who am I?"
Who… was he?
He was tall, with broad shoulders and long hands.
He had the most beautiful phoenix eyes in the world, the sharpest nose, and the most scorching lips and tongue.
So he could only be…
Gu Fang.
…Wait.
Gu Fang.
Those two words were like an ice-cold bucket of water, dumped over his head all at once instantly quenching the fever in his mind.
This was Gu Fang.
The Gu Fang he hated most.
The Gu Fang who would betray him.
He absolutely could not let this happen.
Jing Xuan didn’t even know where he found the strength, but in a burst of panic, he shoved Gu Fang away, scrambled off the bed, and tried to flee.
But before he could take a single step, Gu Fang’s arm snaked around his waist and yanked him back.
With a swift movement, Gu Fang flipped him over, pinning him down beneath him. His expression was dark, his voice gritted through clenched teeth.
"If you run away now, do you want to die from pain or rot to death? Do you not want to live?"
Jing Xuan had suffered through an entire day of agony.
He had already steeled himself to become an unyielding emperor, someone who could endure everything.
But Gu Fang just had to provoke him.
And now, he was even scolding him.
His body burned, his mind clouded—he had almost no rationality left.
So all he could do was struggle helplessly, his voice hoarse as he shouted back.
"Yes! I would rather die than do that with you!"
For a moment, Gu Fang’s gaze darkened further, a storm brewing beneath the surface.
But in the end, he loosened his grip slightly.
"You loathe me that much?" he murmured.
"You went so far as to make me impotent just to keep me away. You’d rather die than let me touch you?"
"Yes!"
Jing Xuan’s agony had pushed him past his limits.
All the emotions he had buried deep inside finally erupted.
"I despise you! I hate you! I wish you would just disappear!"
His voice was laced with tears—not like a childish tantrum, but a true, aching sorrow.
Gu Fang’s heart clenched with a dull pain.
He let go, beginning to rise.
But before he could fully pull away, Jing Xuan suddenly choked out another cry.
"Because you don’t care about me at all!"
Gu Fang froze.
Jing Xuan, on the other hand, had lost all control.
"In winter, you used to sleep with me and warm my feet. But last autumn during the royal hunt, when we shared a tent, I accidentally touched you with my foot and you—you left to sleep outside in the cold rather than stay with me! So it was you who started hating me first!"
"And even before that, at the hot springs! No matter where I went, you avoided me! You even chose to sit with Great-Uncle, that fat old man, just to get away from me! What did I ever do to make you hate me so much?!"
"And you always punish me! You have so many secrets, but I don’t know why you’re hiding them from me! I even asked Xue Qingshu, and he said you had your reasons but then you turned around and punished me again!"
"Whenever I was upset, I wanted to come to you! But I couldn’t! So I went to Hua Ting to drink instead, and you—you still punished me!"
"If you hate me, then why were you so good to me before? So good that back then, aside from my father and mother, you were the most important person in the world. Later, when my father and mother were gone, you truly became the most important. But then you started treating me badly!
"They say it's because I'm the emperor, because one day I will take away your power. But I never thought about that. I only ever wanted to be a good emperor, to live up to my father and mother, to live up to the late Uncle Xue."
"But I treated you so well, yet you wanted to usurp the throne and treated me badly. So in this whole world, in this entire lifetime, I hate you the most!"
After saying this, Jing Xuan lifted his head and bit down on Gu Fang’s shoulder with all his strength. He bit until his own tears mixed with Gu Fang’s blood, yet he refused to let go.
And Gu Fang did not even feel the slightest pain in his shoulder.
Because the dense, aching sorrow in his heart had already drowned out all his senses.
He lowered his head and looked at that stubborn, tear-filled face. In the depths of his heart, all that remained was boundless softness and bitterness.
He could no longer remember when he started having such feelings for Jing Xuan.
He only knew that, at first, he did many things for Jing Xuan because he didn’t want this bright and lively boy to witness too much bloodshed and filth at such a young age.
But in the end, Jing Xuan still found out about the dirty things he had done. Jing Xuan became disappointed, angry, wary, and saddened.
At that time, he wanted to explain, but then he thought perhaps this was how it should be.
The late emperor had taught him that those who sit on the throne must not have any soft spots or blindly trust others. He had also told him that while he could assist Jing Xuan, he must never let Jing Xuan fully trust him. Because once an emperor trusts or cares too much for another person, it becomes a fatal flaw.
So he began, intentionally or not, to play the role of a power-hungry minister.
In the open, he stirred the winds and clouds, fighting against the noble clans on Jing Xuan’s behalf. In secret, he occasionally set traps for Jing Xuan and threw obstacles in his path.
He watched as Jing Xuan bit down and stood firm, step by step, solving problems, growing stronger, and building his own power.
At first, he was gratified and proud. He thought Jing Xuan was smart enough, patient enough, and skilled enough at disguise. Once he had truly matured, once he took full control of imperial power, then they could finally clear up these misunderstandings.
But he had underestimated the power of time.
And he had underestimated how quickly Jing Xuan would grow up.
It seemed that, in just the span of a single distracted moment, Jing Xuan had transformed from a child into a striking young man.
He was intelligent, beautiful, kind, and interesting. Though his temper was bad, at heart, he was genuinely good.
Like a peach blossom in spring, always burning bright under the sun, never needing to endure the suffering of winter.
He was proud because this was the flower he had raised.
But then he slowly began to realize
He would feel displeased when Jing Xuan had long conversations with Xue Qingshu.
He would feel displeased when Jing Xuan spent late nights drinking with Hua Ting.
He would feel displeased when Jing Xuan got too close to some imperial guard, slinging an arm around his shoulder.
So he would find all sorts of excuses to coldly and indifferently punish him, watching as the young boy fumed and raged, and secretly enjoying it.
He thought he was simply playing the role of a strict teacher.
Until one day, someone suddenly reminded him, Jing Xuan needed to take an empress.
Only then did he realize that something had already slipped beyond his control.
That night, in Chang’an, a cold spring rain fell, and outside the window, peach blossoms lay scattered across the ground.
He sat there, watching quietly for an entire night before finally realizing how deep his selfishness ran.
What truly displeased him was not Jing Xuan’s so-called indulgence and frivolity.
It was that the dazzling young man in fine robes, riding his horse in splendor, no longer had only him by his side.
And he himself was no longer the reckless youth who once rode freely through Chang’an.
His hands were stained with too much blood. He bore too many responsibilities.
The one standing alongside Jing Xuan in the annals of history should not be him.
All he needed to do was play the role of a legendary wise ruler’s final opponent.
That was why he had begun to distance himself, to act indifferent.
But then, fate played a cruel joke on him.
He had a dream. In the dream, he met Jing Xuan at the Hua Residence. Jing Xuan teased him about his fondness for men.
And then, somehow, the dream shifted to the bedchamber. Jing Xuan hooked an arm around his neck, whispering his name again and again.
When he woke, he thought it was just a dream.
But in a moment of folly, he actually went to the Hua Residence.
And there, he actually met Jing Xuan.
Then, everything that followed seemed like the dream foretelling the future.
So he allowed himself to indulge in the chaos.
Yet he never expected that when the dream came true, it would be because Jing Xuan had been drugged with a love poison.
That the passion in the dream had never been Jing Xuan’s true desire.
So he was furious.
He was enraged.
He nearly lost control.
He wanted to summon every renowned doctor, to give up on consummation entirely.
But Jing Xuan’s every word, every breath was clearly seducing him, luring him in, tangling him up.
It turned out that all these years, beneath that carefree, unrestrained facade, there had been so much grievance, so much longing, so much unwillingness to let go.
He and the late emperor had both forgotten something.
They had each suffered deep betrayals and carried blood debts. So they took it as a given that a ruler must stand alone.
But his Ah-Sui had been raised in happiness since childhood.
Why should he have to endure such a fate?
Could he not protect both Jing Xuan and the world at the same time?
Gu Fang didn’t know.
He was not a god. He could not overturn fate with a wave of his hand.
He, too, had countless selfish desires.
For example,
No matter what, he had to make sure that Jing Xuan lived on, eyes bright, unclouded by pain.
As for the resentment, the curses, the blows—he would take them all.
At worst, he would simply become the one who perished beneath the peony blossoms.
A ghost, but a ghost who had lived and loved.
Besides,
Jing Xuan was the one who provoked him first.
Since Jing Xuan refused to let him take a step back.
Then he could only step forward.
How could that be considered wrong?
Gu Fang pondered for a moment, then lowered his voice. "Ah Sui, are you really unwilling?"
Jing Xuan finally loosened his grip on Gu Fang's sleeve, his expression firm and unwavering. "I am!"
"Then what now?"
"What?!"
Before Jing Xuan could react, Gu Fang had already clasped the back of his head and kissed him again without warning.
Jing Xuan tried to break free, but Gu Fang was already skilled at this. He pried open his lips effortlessly, his tongue sweeping across the roof of his mouth and lips with reckless abandon.
Wet, scorching, dominant—suffocating yet lingering.
That mix of illicit thrill and pleasure sent tingles down Jing Xuan’s spine. His instincts urged him to respond, but reason told him to escape.
He struggled to push Gu Fang away, trying to carve out a sliver of space for rational thought.
But he was no match for Gu Fang’s strength. His entire body was locked tightly in place, and naturally, their firm contours pressed against each other without any barrier.
Feeling the alarming sensation, Jing Xuan instinctively wanted to retreat, but Gu Fang held him even tighter. "What are you afraid of? It’s not like this is the first time."
Jing Xuan struggled desperately.
"Or..." Gu Fang loosened his grip slightly, his voice deep and husky. His lowered lashes, illuminated by the candlelight, made him look as seductive as a spirit fox. "Do you not want it?"
The moment their eyes met, something inside Jing Xuan surged violently. His blood felt like molten lava, scorching and boiling, urging him—craving Gu Fang’s essence to flood into him.
It was a desire completely beyond rational control.
Jing Xuan wanted to refuse, but the curses at the tip of his tongue twisted into something contradictory instead: "Gu Fang, you scoundrel!"
Gu Fang didn’t deny it. He nibbled lightly on Jing Xuan’s earlobe. "Mm, I’m a scoundrel."
Jing Xuan’s entire body softened from the tingling sensation. He gritted his teeth and tried to sound fierce. "You’re defying your superior!"
Gu Fang’s fingers teased the soft flesh of his lips. "Mm, I’m defying my superior."
Jing Xuan collapsed into his embrace, kicking at him. "You treacherous minister!"
Gu Fang’s hand trailed to his waist. "A treacherous minister who was willing to use his own purity to save his ruler’s life?"
"You—!"
Jing Xuan found himself at a loss for words.
His mind was barely functioning, yet even he had to admit that Gu Fang’s reasoning seemed to make some sense.
After all, if he didn’t remove the love poison, the one who would die… was him, not Gu Fang.
If Gu Fang truly harbored treacherous intentions, he could have simply ignored him.
So…
"I told you when I was young I would protect Your Majesty for a lifetime. If only Your Majesty had listened to me earlier, none of this would have happened."
Though Gu Fang carried the intent to tempt, his words were sincere.
This time, Liu Chou’er hadn’t aimed to kill. This time, he could save him. But what about next time? What if the next person truly wished him dead? Or if, by some cruel twist of fate, the one to remove the poison wasn’t him?
At that thought, Gu Fang’s kisses grew more forceful, aggressive, and domineering.
The overwhelming sense of punishment crashed down on Jing Xuan, leaving him nowhere to retreat.
And indeed, guilt gnawed at him because if he had just listened to Gu Fang from the start, he wouldn’t have fallen into Liu Chou’er’s trap or ended up in this dire situation.
But… but…
"Who do you think you are?! Why should I listen to you?! Whether I live or die, what poison I take, and who I sleep with, what does any of it have to do with you?! Either way, I just won’t be with you!"
Jing Xuan, unable to bear the humiliation, shoved Gu Fang away and blurted out those defiant words without thinking.
The next second, Gu Fang yanked his belt loose.
A chill swept over him.
Jing Xuan gasped. "Gu Fang, you—mm!"
Before he could finish cursing, his body went completely limp.
Because Gu Fang’s hand had already slipped into his loosened robe and grasped a certain spot.
The rough calluses, forged from years of wielding weapons, brushed over the sensitive tip. The ever-alert Jing Xuan trembled uncontrollably, his ten fingers digging into Gu Fang’s arm. He wanted to yell in anger and shame, but when he opened his mouth, his voice came out as a helpless, broken mess.
Jing Xuan felt both pleasure and desire, yet resisted, ashamed to the point of wanting to cry.
Under the outbreak of the gu, these intense emotions infinitely amplified all his senses.
Very soon, he clutched Gu Fang’s arm, bit his lip tightly, and tilted his head back, preparing to abandon himself completely to the ravaging of dragon musk.
Then, Gu Fang’s hand suddenly stopped.
Jing Xuan lowered his eyes in confusion, a flushed shimmer of tears at the corners, teetering on the edge of falling.
Gu Fang lightly swept his gaze over him, calm yet gentle, and said, "Your Majesty, say you want it."